"Sometimes."
"And my white dress is clean, isn't it?"
"Yes, but it doesn't look like—like hers, you know."
"Her? Who's 'her'?"
"You know—Isabel."
Juliet sighed and bit her lips. Her eyes filled with tears and she winked very hard to keep them back. An ominous pain clutched at her loyal little heart.
"What do you want me to do, Romie?" she asked, gently.
"Why, I don't know. Men never know about such things. Just make yourself like her—that's all."
"Huh!" Juliet was scornful now. "I don't know whether I want to look like her or not," she remarked, coldly.
"Why not?" he flashed back.